


threads and inks

by lavinol



Series: Still Suspicion [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Angst, M/M, Manly Feelings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavinol/pseuds/lavinol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A flash of something lit up and died in Daniel's eyes, and for reasons that Olivier couldn't fathom he instantly wished he could take his words back.</i>
</p>
<p>Daniel wants Olivier. Olivier wants Daniel. But Olivier is too stubborn to admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	threads and inks

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing takes place in 2013 after [this](http://i.imgur.com/XKhQYKm.jpg) happened. I regret nothing.

 

_the hating and intentions are no more_  
_and it's all you'll ever get if you let go_  
_you're everything you need_  
_the still suspicion holds you tight_

 

 

 

 

**1.**

"Would you relax? Hey, Olivier, you're gonna burn a hole in the carpet."

Olivier looked up, frowning. Then he realised that his foot had been tapping away without him noticing. He stilled it, taking a deep breath.

"What's wrong with you? You've been acting weird."

Olivier glanced at his young assistant, Jack, trying to look casual. "Nothing. Just tired."

"Bull. Shit."

"Is this meeting ever going to start?" Olivier tried to change the subject, checking his watch.

Jack was still staring at him. "They'll be here soon. Don't change the subject. What happened? It's that Agger fellow, isn't it?"

"You know, in some places, when someone is nosy about their boss, they could get fired."

"Good thing I'm working for you then. Come on, spill."

"Can we talk about this later?" 

Jack opened his mouth to reply but Olivier was saved when the door to the conference room swung open. Olivier and Jack stood up, along with Olivier's business partner Per, and Per's assistant Santi.

A tall, lean guy walked into the room, severely underdressed for the occasion in a red polo shirt and dark blue jeans. His arms were covered in colourful tattoos - he even had them on his knuckles. He was followed by another guy, also dressed in polo but with a jacket on. The latter immediately walked up to Olivier and shook his hand, then his colleagues'.

Olivier tried not to look at the tattooed guy, tried not to judge his attire, but he couldn't help himself. The worst part was, the guy sensed his disapproval and gave him a stony look in return.

"Have a seat. Let's get to it." Per said, smiling brilliantly.

When the Danish cement company said they would be sending representatives to negotiate a contract with Olivier and Per's construction company, Olivier didn't expect the men to be actual construction workers. Olivier expected to meet a manager, someone whose status was at the same level as him.

But the company said all negotiations could be handled by their two foremen, and that would be it. Easy. Except not. This was their third meeting and Olivier and his colleagues had yet to agree to anything the Danish guys demanded, because their demands were ridiculous. Sometimes he thought they were purposely making the negotiations difficult just to piss him off.

"Mr. Giroud, if I could just clarify here -"

"Call me Olivier, please." Olivier said, forcing a smile though he knew it probably looked more like a grimace. It was the umpteenth time he had told Daniel Agger - the tattooed guy - to call him by his first name, but Agger had so far refused to do so. Almost as if he was mocking Olivier's position, higher in the hierarchy than him.

As usual, Agger ignored his request and went on saying how 'Mr. Giroud' wasn't serious and that the demands could be met if only he wasn't so insistent on saving money, bla bla bla. Olivier's head was starting to pound.

An hour later, Per called an end to the meeting. They had made little progress, and the atmosphere was starting to become unpleasant. Santi cracked a few jokes and the men from Denmark loosened up, finally responding in a positive manner before exiting the room. Olivier felt Agger's gaze lingering on him for a brief moment, but he could be wrong. God knows he hadn't felt like himself in a while.

"That went well," Jack said, brimming with sarcasm.

Per arranged some papers in his file. "Olivier, can I have a moment with you in private?" His face gave away nothing but there was something in his tone that made Olivier pause.

Shit. He'd been hoping that Per hadn't noticed his erratic behaviour but obviously nothing got past Per. After Jack and Santi left, Olivier turned to Per. "I'm sorry -"

"Do you have a thing for him? Agger?"

Okay, this was unexpected. Olivier almost laughed. "What are you talking about?"

Per looked straight at him, completely not fooled. "Olivier. I know you. I know how you act when someone gets under your skin. You're behaving that way right now."

"With Agger? Please, Per. I have standards." Olivier scoffed as he picked up his phone and placed it into his pocket. "Even if -"

"Don't be such a snob," Per snapped. Startled, Olivier immediately shut his mouth. Per rarely got angry but it was obvious that the halt in their negotiations was getting to him too. Then Per sighed. "Look, I know he's not your type. But stop denying that you haven't been acting normal for a while now. Do something about it. If not for your sake, then for our business. We need to close this deal."

Then Per walked out of the room, leaving Olivier to stew with his thoughts.

Per was right, he had not been himself lately. But what was there to do when neither party was willing to give? And Olivier was not going to be the first to yield.

 

 

 

 

**2.**

Daniel tipped his glass, letting the warm liquid slide down his throat. When it was empty, he set the glass down and asked for another round from the bartender. He wasn't in a good mood, so getting plastered sounded like a great idea.

"Slow down. We have that meeting with the Weimanns tomorrow." His buddy and colleague, Martin Kelly, was ever the voice of reason. He was drinking club soda, as usual being the designated driver of the two.

Daniel groaned. "I need this after today. Can't stand that prick Giroud."

Martin mumbled into his glass. "But I'm sure you'd love his prick."

"What the fuck?" If Daniel had been drinking he would've spat his beer all over the place. He glared at Martin, but his friend merely chuckled. 

"Oh, come on. I know you're dying to tear his clothes right off of him. Let's not pretend now. You've never been a good liar." Now Martin was smirking, and as irritated as he was at Martin being all perceptive and shit, Daniel could not help but let his mind wander to the image of a possibly naked Giroud.

_No, stop. That was not the way to go_ , Daniel scolded himself.

The bartender placed a refilled glass in front of him and Daniel snatched it, taking a few gulps in one go. Then he tried to say as convincingly as he could – though who he was convincing, Martin or himself he wasn't sure - “I'm dying to punch his smug face, is what it is. Are you listening to yourself? What the hell do I want with him? His watch could probably pay for my salary for the entire year." 

"So what? Since when don't you date guys who make more than you?" Martin made a face.

" _Date_? Martin boy, you have no idea what you're talking about. So much to learn." Daniel's words had started to slur. He ruffled Martin's hair much to his friend's annoyance. "One day you'll understand why someone like me won't ever be with someone like Giroud."

"Nobody said you have to be with him. I know you want to fuck him. Just do it then sign the contract so we can go home." Martin huffed, rolling his eyes. “I'm sick of English food.”

Daniel stared at Martin, his face hot at Martin's words. Because of course his buddy was right as usual. Not that he would ever admit that to Martin's face. He stuttered a reply, "I thought I was the one drunk here."

Martin ignored him. "Are you done moping? Can we go now?"

Looking at Martin a beat more, Daniel slowly nodded. "Yeah. Don't worry, this one's on me." He signaled to the bartender. He couldn't believe what dear, innocent, very much straight Martin had just said to him. Was he that obvious?

The truth was, he wouldn't mind having a piece of Olivier Giroud himself. That pretty boy in his well-tailored suits, neat haircut and expensive accessories. Wouldn't it be nice to mess him up, make him cry Daniel's name and turn that arrogant expression on his face into something else. Daniel shook his head, told himself off. Impossible.

But Daniel loved the impossible.

 

 

 

 

**3.**

Olivier walked into the office lobby, typing an email on his phone as he made his way to the elevators. He heard a commotion but ignored it, pulling out his keycard to swipe across the reader besides the magnificent glass doors.

Suddenly he was aware of someone calling his name. He looked over to the other entrance - for visitors - and saw the office's security guard standing imposingly, his bald head shining under the fluorescent lights. He was blocking the entrance from who else, but Olivier's current nightmare.

"This fellow here is saying you know him." The guard drawled lazily, nodding towards Agger. Agger raised his eyebrows at Olivier, as if he was saying, well, aren't you gonna tell him?

Olivier tried not to grumble. He gave a tight smile and said, "Yes, he's one of our clients. Let him in."

"He doesn't have a visitor tag."

"I left it at the hotel, alright? I forgot." Agger glared at the guard.

"You can't enter without a tag," the guard replied nonchalantly.

Olivier had no choice but to step in. "Skrtel, it's fine. I'll walk him up. He doesn't need a tag for today."

Skrtel gave a long look at Olivier, then shrugged. "Anything happens, it's on you." He returned to his position behind the counter near the visitors' doors.

Thanking Skrtel, Olivier walked to the staff doors, swiped his card and waited for Agger to enter before letting the doors close. Then he made his way to the elevators, trying to pretend he wasn't bothered by Agger's presence.

Agger stood beside him, not saying a word.

"You're welcome," Oliver said sarcastically as the elevator door dinged open. He entered, followed by Agger, still not saying a word. Olivier punched the button to the 21st floor a little harder than necessary.

"Thank you," Agger said, although he sounded less than thankful, his eyes on the moving numbers above the doors.

Don't start, Olivier warned himself. He ignored his own warning. "Perhaps if you dress better next time then there wouldn't be a problem. Even without a tag."

Agger glanced over, his brown eyes cool. " _Perhaps_ I just can't be bothered dressing like a pretentious prick every day."

"Perhaps you need to learn business _etiquette_ before you continue to talk shit."

"Perhaps you need to tell your employees to stop treating people like criminals just because they don't look like a corporate _asshole_."

They glared at each other, resentment vibrating off of them in the small cell. Olivier was plainly aware that Agger was almost the same height as he was, and that despite his lean appearance he could probably break Olivier's nose if he wanted to. Before their fury could boil over, the elevator stopped and the doors opened, much to Olivier's relief.

Olivier stalked out and immediately collided with a small squishy someone. He righted himself, and saw a skinny young man sprawled on the carpet. It was one of the new interns, recruited over the summer. Olivier had forgotten his name. Rushing to offer his hand, the intern accepted it gratefully, brushing off Olivier's apologies. Agger watched the scene with an amused expression on his face.

"There you are. I was wondering when you'd get here." Agger's colleague, Martin, strolled towards them. He was speaking to Agger, but smiled at Olivier and they exchanged pleasantries.

Martin said they were there for a lunch meeting with Olivier's sales team – something Agger completely neglected to mention, of course. Ignoring his irritation, Olivier told the intern to get Lukas, his Head of Sales. The intern - Eisfeld, that was his name – nodded enthusiastically and bounced away, smiling.

The three of them stood there, somewhat awkwardly. Martin mentioned seeing a car accident on his way to the office. Olivier heard the news on the radio and they soon chatted away while Agger silently hovered beside them. It was easy for Olivier to talk to Martin. He didn't know why Agger had to be such an ass when his colleague was perfectly civil.

"Hey guys!" Lukas arrived, eyes twinkling, a huge smile on his face.

The million-dollar-smile that brings in all the contracts - the company's secret weapon. Per and Olivier had decided yesterday that Lukas was their best option to close the deal with the Danes, seeing as Per and Olivier were going nowhere.

Olivier had a crush on Lukas when they first met, but he soon got over it, realising that he and Lukas were better off as friends.

"Sorry I'm late, I had another meeting." Lukas pointed to somewhere behind him.

Another man approached them and Olivier felt a snag in his heartbeat.

"Mathieu," he said, immediately hating the fact that his voice sounded funny. He saw Agger glance at him, as if intrigued. Olivier quickly arranged a neutral expression on his face, even though he knew he couldn't fool anyone.

Mathieu smiled and nodded. “Olivier.” 

There was pause then Mathieu said, "Well, I'm heading off. I'll let you know the result by Friday, Lukas." Lukas clapped him on the back and shook his hand, confirming their meeting on Friday.

Matthieu gave a last look at Olivier, then headed to the elevators.

Olivier needed to sit down. He had not seen Matthieu in about six months and even though he was sure that he no longer felt that way about him, the shock was still there. Along with all the memories – some he never wanted to remember – of their time together.

And as much as he told himself it was none of Agger's business, he hated that Agger had watched the entire exchange. He felt suffocated.

Excusing himself, he headed to his office while the rest of the group walked away in the other direction, Lukas talking animatedly.

Olivier wished he could pretend that everything was okay, but he knew if he wasn't careful everything would be ruined.

 

 

 

 

**4.**

"I'm bored."

"Tell me about it."

Jack turned to Olivier, baffled. "But this function was your idea, right?"

Olivier sighed. "No, it was Per's. You think I'd do something like this?"

"Good point."

They were sitting at a table in a large ballroom at a high-end hotel, supposedly mingling with their clients. It was Per's idea to hold this function as sort of an appreciation for their current clients, and hopefully, through good word-of-mouth they could seal a few of their more problematic deals. Olivier only agreed to do it because he knew he owed Per after screwing up the deal with the Danish company.

"I'm getting a drink."

Olivier made his way to the bar just outside the ballroom, studiously avoiding everyone's gaze. Despite putting an effort to appear presentable, he knew he didn't look his best, owing to the sleepless nights he had the last few days.

Nights filled with dreams of colours on skin and lines traced on arms and the collar of a red polo shirt - never mind.

The bar was empty, thankfully. He sat and ordered, taking another look at the really cute bartender who was smiling at him. The bartender was really blond, with clear blue eyes like beautiful sky-coloured marbles.

"Thanks, Sebastian," Olivier said, seeing the name on the bartender's shirt. He was rewarded with another smile - he couldn't help but return it. The bartender placed a drink in front of him, and this time his smile made him looked _interested_.

Of course, bartenders were meant to looked interested. That was their job, that was how they earn their tips. But maybe flirting with this blond cutie was the exact thing Olivier needed to take his mind off a certain person.

Just as he's made up his mind to start a conversation, Olivier sensed someone dropping onto the seat beside him. He turned and almost dropped his glass.

"Beer? Shouldn't you be ordering something pretentious like port wine?" Agger smirked.

Olivier set down his drink and watched as Agger ordered a beer too. He was being really obvious with his staring, it was awful, but being this close to Agger made his breath stutter. Damn if he knew why.

"Agger - " he began, but Agger cut him off. "Daniel."

"So you expect me to call you Daniel when you won't call me by my first name?" Olivier snapped, getting the tension out of his chest. Be angry, he told himself. If you're angry you don't have to think about anything else.

Agger - Daniel smirked again. "Right. Olivier." But he stretched the syllables so that it sounded as if he was saying _O-lee-vee-yerr_.

Olivier was not in the mood. He chugged down his drink, ready to leave, because he wasn't sure he could handle being around Daniel without losing his temper or his mind. But before he could stand, he felt a hand on his arm. It was large and warm. The knuckles had YNWA tattooed on them. Olivier was about to tell Daniel off but seeing those letters made him stop.

"You a Liverpool fan?" He asked, curious.

Daniel took his hand away and gave a surprised sort of smile. "Yeah, I am. You?"

"Hah. No. Arsenal." Olivier couldn't resist saying the name of his club proudly.

"Eight years and counting, huh?" Daniel teased, still with that smirk. That little curve on the corner of his lips was driving Olivier crazy.

"Oh, shut up. I don't see your lousy team winning shit."

"Hey, we won the League Cup last year."

"Whoa, incredible, the League Cup. Tell me more." Olivier rolled his eyes, then tried to hold in his laughter when he saw how offended Daniel looked. 

But then Daniel chuckled, shook his head and said, "Guess we can't really one-up one another now, huh? Not much to brag about these days."

Olivier agreed then somehow found himself launching into a discussion about whether Manchester United really paid off referees, which led to a discussion about other football leagues, then the politics of their countries, then - well, Olivier sort of lost track after that. He actually felt comfortable talking with Agger more than he thought he would, and was surprised at the depth of Daniel's views.

He chided himself, ashamed for thinking that Daniel was uneducated just because he worked as a foreman. The job was just a stepping stone for him, he told Olivier he eventually wanted to start his own construction company.

"Still, I could never work in an office, you know. All those suits, 9-to-5, clocking in like robots, being stuck in a room all day? Not for me." Daniel had a wistful look on his face.

Olivier knew he shouldn't pick on that especially now that they were finally getting along, but he was jabbed by Daniel's statement. "What's wrong with working in an office?"

"Well, nothing." Daniel shrugged. "Just not for me. That's all."

Don't say it, Olivier warned himself, yet again. And still, "Because we're a bunch of corporate assholes? Wearing expensive stuff, not like you guys on the ground, the ones doing the real work?"

Daniel frowned. "Look, why are you being so sensitive? I'm just saying it's different for each person. You and me aren't alike. That's cool. Nothing wrong with that."

"Yes, that's why you insist on not wearing a suit every time you meet with us - even now, when this is supposed to be a black-tie event."

"I'm not insisting anything. Has it occurred to you that some people can't afford to have a bunch of suits lying around their house?" Daniel's voice was flat, betraying no emotions.

Olivier flushed, embarrassed, and attempted to get back to higher ground. "What have you got against us? Why won't you just sign the contract?"

"I thought we weren't going to talk shop today." 

"Why not? It's not like we're going to talk about it any other day." Olivier felt a tightness in his chest, tension coiling in his body.

"We'll sign the contract when you meet our demands. We've told you that." Daniel looked pissed off now, but it was too late for Olivier to back track.

"Your demands are ridiculous and you know it!" Olivier's voice was loud. He ignored Sebastian's questioning look. He didn't know why he was so angry, which made him angrier.

Daniel placed a few crumpled bills beside his empty glass and stood up. Then he leaned in close to Olivier's face and hissed, "So why don’t you find another company. A company full of people who wear _suits_."

Before Olivier could respond, he was off, heading to the exit.

Olivier was furious. Grabbing some money from his pocket, he practically threw them at Sebastian before going after Daniel, intent on finishing the conversation. 

He found Daniel in one of the hallways of the hotel leading to the lobby.

"Hey, asshole! Don't walk away from me when we're talking!" shouted Olivier, not holding in his voice now. 

The hallway was empty, but he was past caring if anyone else heard him. Daniel stopped and slowly turned to face Olivier, an incredulous look on his face.

"Who are you calling asshole, _asshole_?"

"You think it's easy to find another company, with the economy like this? You think your bosses would enjoy you going back without a deal? You don't know shit about being in a business!"

Daniel retraced his steps, almost stomping his way to Olivier. He stopped, an arm's length away, snarling, his finger stabbing Olivier's chest, "Don't you _dare_ talk to me like you know me. Just because you own a business doesn't give you the right to act like a fucking jerk. Who the hell do you think you are?"

Flustered, Olivier grabbed Daniel's finger that was on his chest and flung it away. "Don't touch me." 

Daniel was almost breathing on him. Olivier had never noticed before how Daniel's face was dusted with freckles but now those freckles were all he could see.

Olivier suddenly wasn't sure if _he_ was breathing.

Daniel looked as if he wants to say something, but changed his mind. His face softened. When he spoke, there was less venom in his voice. "Why are you so mad at me? What am I to you?"

"Nobody," lied Olivier as curtly as he could.

A flash of something lit up and died in Daniel's eyes, and for reasons that Olivier couldn't fathom he instantly wished he could take his words back. Knowing that he couldn't, he did the only logical thing that his short-circuited brain told him to do.

He pushed Daniel to the wall and kissed him.

 

 

 

 

**5.**

When things had taken a wrong turn at the bar it was all Daniel could do not to slam his glass at the wall, or on Olivier's angry face. How did it all end up so fucked up? He didn't mean to offend Olivier, he was just being honest. And look where that got him. 

He practically ran out of the bar, admonishing himself for trying to be nice, trying to play the game, trying to get to know that arrogant businessman when all Olivier could see was the deal, the negotiation, the money.

And he couldn't even let Daniel have the last word, chasing him all the way to the hallway, yelling like an idiot. Forget that he looked extra hot when he was angry. Forget that his stupid cologne was making Daniel heady with his scent.

Forget everything.

Especially when he said Daniel meant nothing to him.

So to say that Daniel was surprised when Olivier pressed his lips against his was an _understatement_ of the year. Shocked. Astounded. Astonished.

Daniel froze, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that Olivier. Was. Kissing. Him. 

But only for a second. 

Then he gave in to the kiss with as much fervour as he could muster. All the anger, the confusion, the desire was laid out on that kiss, his hands grabbing Olivier's face, wanting more, and more.

He felt Olivier bracing himself against the wall, not wanting to crush Daniel, but Daniel pulled him closer. Their hips were touching now, and Daniel can feel Olivier against him, hard and heavy. He slipped his hand in Olivier's hair, feeling as if he could not get enough of his taste, his scent. He worked his tongue into Olivier's mouth, trying not to groan and melt when Olivier finally removed his hands from the wall and started touching Daniel in places that have been dormant for so long.

"Santi, where did you say - oh shit."

Olivier sprang back from Daniel, letting in cool air right where he'd been standing. Daniel opened his eyes with some difficulty, still tasting Olivier on his lips. His head was dizzy with lust, and a whole bundle of unwanted emotions.

He wasn't sure what was happening, then he saw Olivier wiping his mouth, looking as guilty as hell. 

Santi and Jack, the two young assistants who Daniel recognised from Olivier's office, were standing at the end of the hallway. Along with another man Daniel didn't know. To say they look surprised was putting it lightly.

"Sorry! We were just - we thought that you were gone and Per said to look for you and we said never mind but he insisted so at first we went to the bar but then -" Jack was babbling away, offering an explanation with Santi nodding eagerly beside him, agreeing with a panicked expression on his usually cheery face.

But Daniel noticed that Olivier wasn't paying attention to Jack. He was looking at the third man, the stranger.

"Nasri." Olivier narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here? Jack?" He looked at his assistant, expecting an answer.

But before Jack could reply the man cut in. "Well, well, well. Didn't take you for an _exhibitionist_." He looked positively gleeful at catching Olivier's indiscretion. Olivier, on the other hand, looked as if he would rather die.

The awkwardness of the situation was palpable. No one seemed to know what to say until Olivier cleared his throat and said, "It's none of your business."

Jack chimed in, "We bumped into Mr. Nasri here and was just escorting him out - he seems to have lost his way, because obviously he shouldn't be here, as we all know. We were going to call security if he still doesn’t want to leave but I’m sure Mr. Nasri knows what to do for his own sake." Jack's stern speech belied his diminutive stature, his eyes shooting dark looks at Nasri.

Nasri laughed mockingly. "Cool it, Jack, I'm leaving now. But it's good to see that nothing has changed since I left. Savvy businessman that you are. Just making clients happy, good old Olivier." 

He suddenly turned Daniel, a spiteful expression on his face. "So has he fucked you for a contract yet?"

Santi emitted a tiny gasp and Jack made a strangled sound as all the blood seemed to drain from Olivier's face.

Daniel felt his blood boil, at this dumbass shit's implication that Olivier wanted him only for the contract, and at the little voice in his head agreeing _duh, of course he's right it's not like Olivier would ever want you for you_.

But mostly he was angry because Olivier looked devastated, and he never wanted to see that look on his face again.

Before Daniel knew what he was doing, he was looming over Nasri, aggressively spitting, "You better watch what you're saying."

Nasri flinched, fear flickering across his face. Then he appeared to recover himself, looking past Daniel to Olivier. "Nice company you keep these days." He plastered a fake smile on his face and strolled towards the lobby, walking in a rather annoying gait.

Time seemed to crawl. Finally Olivier spoke up, not looking at Daniel but clearly aiming his words at him. "I don't need you to defend me. Just go."

He moved past Daniel, gesturing to Jack. "Where's Tomas? Who the hell brought that asshole here, this is going to be a PR disaster..." His voice faded as he returned to the ballroom, Jack trailing behind him.

Daniel watched him leave, his insides strangely hollow. 

He tried to assure himself that Olivier was just embarrassed to be caught like that – who was Nasri anyway? a former colleague? - and reacted the only way he knew how. By being hostile. And it wasn't like they were serious anyway, just because Olivier kissed him first.

Which he did. As much as Daniel couldn't believe it. 

But Daniel only wanted a fling, right? So what did it matter that Olivier brushed him off like that? It wasn't supposed to mean anything.

It still didn't make it hurt any less though.

He heard Santi calling his name but he was already walking away. He didn't want to see the pity in Santi's eyes.

 

 

 

 

**6.**

Olivier gave a final, hefty punch to the bag then stopped, breathing hard. He felt slightly better, although it will take a lot more than abusing a punching bag before he felt completely normal again.

It had been a week since the Unmentionable Incident at the hotel and Olivier felt as if he had been swimming underwater ever since. Foggy, sluggish, certain to drown. Jack and Santi had barely said a word to him, as if they were afraid anything they do might might set him off. Yet he sensed that their quietness also arose from their disapproval at the way he spoke to Daniel.

This was all so fucked up.

Why the hell did have to do what he did? He must be losing his mind. So Nasri saw them, which was horrible enough, but what if it had been one of his clients? What if it had been Per? Talk about unprofessional.

He tried – yet again – not to think about how good it felt to kiss Daniel, the way his soft lips moved against his, the way his warm soft skin felt under his fingers, the way he would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Olivier hated himself so much sometimes.

Saying goodbye to Laurent - the guy in charge of the gym - Olivier carried his stuff to the locker room and then to the showers. He took a long shower, his tense muscles finally relaxing under the hot water. He wanted to scrub everything from his body and if possible, from his mind. 

Once he was done, he dried himself with a towel then wrapped it around his waist, making his way back to the locker room.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t realise there was someone else in the room with him until he had entered his locker's combination. 

The guy was standing at the far end of the two benches lined up in the middle of the room. He was dressed only in black shorts, his back literally covered with tattoos. Of a cemetery? Olivier tried not to stare, but he was fascinated by the intricate tattoos, which looked chaotic at first but slowly began to reveal each image as his eyes roamed over the design. 

Then the guy moved to face him and Olivier felt his heart plunge to the abyss.

Daniel didn't seem surprised to see him, but his expression was unfriendly.

"Are you stalking me?" Olivier accused him, his mouth running off again.

Daniel turned his back on Olivier. "You really think so damn highly of yourself. Why the hell would I want to stalk you?"

"Then what are you doing here?"

"This is a public fucking gym." Daniel sounded annoyed, rummaging around his duffel bag and tossing things into his locker. The muscles in his back rippled, the tattoos seemed to come alive to Olivier's eyes.

Olivier hated him and wanted him and all the confusion raged inside his soul, making him lash out. "And you come here out of all the other _public fucking gyms_?"

Daniel whirled around, angrily. "What does it matter? I got a discount from the hotel I'm staying, so I'm using it. Why do I have to explain anything to you?”

The words he left unsaid remained in the room. They faced each other, both unwilling to voice out loud what was really on their minds.

Well, at least Olivier refused to do be the one to do so. He let his gaze drop to Daniel's chest. "That's hideous."

Daniel looked at himself, frowning. "What? This?" He pointed to the massive tattoo of a chain circling his neck and falling between his pecs, ending with a large rendering of a square locket.

"Yeah. What the hell is that supposed to be?" Olivier couldn't hide his distaste. "The ones your back are amazing but that? It's ugly as sin."

"It's stylish," Daniel said defensively.

“No, it’s not.”

"It means something to me."

"Really? What?"

"Like I'm gonna tell you."

Olivier huffed, taking his eyes off the tattoo. "Fine." He turned to his locker, picking up a shirt. 

Then he heard Daniel say, "You really think the ones on my back are amazing?"

Glancing indifferently at Daniel, he shrugged, even though his traitorous heart was racing. "Sure."

Daniel was staring at Olivier’s left arm. "Yours isn't so bad either."

Olivier didn't look at him, but somehow felt a prickle on his arm where his tattoo was. "Thanks," he replied tersely. He put his shirt on.

He wished Daniel would leave so he could get dressed in peace. But when Daniel started digging into his bag again, Olivier wished he would stay.

He had a sudden image of him tracing that absurd ugly ass neckchain tattoo with his tongue as Daniel laid under him, moaning his name.

Cursing himself, Olivier quickly put on his boxers and his pants. He pulled on his shoes, foregoing his socks and his watch and all the other stuff, wanting to get the hell out of there before he did something stupid. Again.

"So who's Mathieu?" Daniel casually asked.

Olivier slammed his locker door shut, picking up his bag. "Nobody." He turned to leave.

"Nobody... like me?"

Olivier closed his eyes and exhaled. He deserved that, he supposed.

 

 

 

 

**7.**

Daniel fully expected Olivier to tell him to mind his own business. He was deliberately provoking Olivier, irritated by his accusation that he had stalked him. How the hell was he supposed to know that Olivier went to that gym too? Not that he was exactly complaining about seeing Olivier again. But still, what an ass.

And what an _ass_. The owners of this gym didn't believe in thick towels, apparently.

So while his goal was to annoy Olivier, he was surprised when Olivier actually considered answering his question seriously. He watched as Olivier slowly sat on the bench, his bag falling to the floor, a gloomy expression on his face. Daniel tried not to look curious.

“You're going to think this is really pathetic.”

“Try me.”

"Well, he's my ex. I met him when I first came to London."

Okay, now Daniel was very curious. “What happened?" Daniel also sat down on the bench, although he made sure there was ample space between them.

"Nothing happened. We just drifted away. Maybe that's the worst part. We didn't have a huge fight or anything like that. It was as if one day he woke up and decided that he no longer feels anything for me. Maybe he found someone better. I don't know. Once we were done, I didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore.” Olivier laughed, somewhat sadly.

“Anyway, I still see him sometimes because the company he works for has contracts with Per's team. But it's been a while since I've last seen him."

Daniel stayed quiet. Then, "I'm sorry." Olivier nodded his thanks.

He knew that was more than enough from Olivier but Daniel couldn't help himself. He needed to know. So after a moment, Daniels asked, "Are you - do you still feel something for him?"

Olivier gestured, wordlessly. At last he said, "I thought I don't anymore, but sometimes... I'm not so sure. I think it’s just me being nostalgic. It's been a while...” Then he stopped, as if realising he had said too much, and quickly said, “It doesn't matter though, because he doesn't care anymore. There's that."

The two of them sat on the bench, letting the silence wash over them. It wasn't an awkward silence though, which was funny to Daniel. It was funny how he and Olivier could be fighting one moment then speaking amicably the next before fighting again. He didn't understand how any of this worked.

Not wanting to let Olivier continue having that miserable look on his face, Daniel asked, "And Nasri? I'm guessing that guy cannot be one of your exes."

Olivier let out a noise that sounded like a snort. "Definitely not. He's a former partner at our firm. We fired him and he's been bitter ever since."

"Why did you fire him?"

"He was selling our secrets to a rival company. He was only caught when he got too confident and became careless with his meetings with those guys." Olivier shook his head. "He hates me not only because he was fired but because when we were working together I always closed deals faster than him. He basically accused me of sleeping with clients in exchange for new contracts."

“Right. So that explains what he said. I got the gist of it, but -"

"The worst part is he spread the rumour to the press in his attempt to badmouth our entire company. Our PR guy, Tomas, had such a hellish time trying to recover our image." Olivier stared at his shoes, scuffling his feet against the floor.

"What a dickhead." Daniel was repulsed, and he let it show on his face.

Olivier gave a short laugh, then paused. "You're not going to ask me if he's right?"

Daniel shifted in his seat. "Why should I? I know he's not."

"How?"

"I just do." 

And Daniel did. He knew Olivier was proud, and had a bad temper, and used way too much hair product, but he also knew Olivier would never stoop that low. The fact that their deals had been stalling for weeks and Olivier had made no attempts to join Daniel in his bed in exchange for his signature is enough proof that Olivier was not that kind of person.

"Your faith in me is touching," Olivier said, sarcasm shading his words. But he smiled at Daniel, his eyes conveying his thanks.

Daniel shrugged, looking away. He did not want to get caught up in those dangerous blue eyes. “It's the truth.”

"So after he got fired he had to keep a low profile from the backlash, but he keeps a grudge against us. I guess he has new ammunition now to go after me and the company. I never thought I'd see him again, especially not -" Olivier stopped again, realising what he was about to say.

Especially not while you have your mouth on some guy, you mean, Daniel wanted to finish the sentence. But he didn't.

Olivier cleared his throat. "Anyway, speaking of that night. You still haven't apologised."

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "What am I supposed to apologise for?"

"For butting into a conversation that you weren't a part of."

"Why should I apologise for that?" Daniel was laughing now, as Olivier's cheeks tinted red. "I'm not sorry I told him off. He deserved it."

"I don't need you to -"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't need me to defend you, you can handle everything yourself. Just like you handled everything yourself when you jumped me which led to the conversation that you didn't need to be saved from." There was a mocking tone to his own voice which he didn't like. He didn't want to be mean, but Olivier's insistence on being the macho hero was grating.

Olivier glared at him. "You're not making any sense." He stood up, shouldering his bag.

"Shouldn't you be the one apologising? For ravaging me senselessly in public?" Daniel couldn’t help smirking, liking the way Olivier was furiously blushing.

Olivier replied so hastily that he was tripping on his words. "That - that was a mistake. Okay? A _mistake_. We both know that. It won't happen again."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot." Daniel nodded, putting on a thoughtful look even as his chest felt like someone had punched it. "I'm just a nobody. I'm the mistake, right?"

Olivier tightened his hold on his bag, his knuckles almost white. Daniel looked up at him, expecting something. 

Anything. 

But Olivier simply walked away.

Daniel felt that hollowness inside him again. He yelled at Olivier's back, "What, no goodbye kiss?"

There was no answer.

Daniel sighed. He was a fucking dumbass, staying here lusting after someone who felt nothing for him. No, scratch that, he was pretty sure that Olivier felt something for him – why else would he initiate that kiss? - but he was just not sure how much. 

But what did it matter? When did this all become such a big deal? So what if Olivier kissed him? Many guys had. And wasn't he supposed to only sleep with Olivier so he can get it over with and get him out of his mind?

Well, yeah, that was what Daniel wanted at first. He wasn't going to lie to himself. Olivier's presence made him sweat. How could he forget looking into the mirror in the locker room and seeing Olivier appear from the showers? The way the towel draped on his hips barely covering anything, the way his strong shoulders moved when he put his shirt on?

But now Daniel wasn't so sure anymore that sex was all he wanted from Olivier. 

Not after today, when he'd glimpsed something beneath that rich pretty boy facade. Because despite all appearances, there was something vulnerable in Olivier that made Daniel want to dig in and peel all the layers off. 

He wanted to know the real Olivier, not the false front he put up for everyone else.

Only a heartless man could turn his back on someone like that. If only Daniel could be as cruel as Mathieu. Then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

 

 

 

 

**8.**

“Come on, do it! Be a big boy!”

Lukas and Per shrieked with laughter as Eisfeld attempted to drink a pint of beer. He sputtered, handed the glass back to Lukas, barely made any changes to the quantity of the liquid. 

Olivier joined in the laughter, feeling slightly sorry for the intern. But Eisfeld took his ribbing in good spirits, his face glowing when Tomas patted him on the back, congratulating him on his effort.

"And you call yourself a German!" Lukas poked him, grinning.

"Not all Germans love beer," Eisfeld answered, beaming. His face was pink.

"Nonsense!" Lukas took a big gulp, a joyous look on his face. "Wait until you're a little older. Then you'll discover what you've been missing!"

It was early October and they were at their annual Oktoberfest outing in a German bar, one of the few bars in London that offered a celebration similar to the Bavarian festival. Olivier didn't love beer as much as his German compatriots but he enjoyed going out with his colleagues every year, getting drunk and forgetting about work if only for a weekend. The bar swelled with people from his company, laughing and hollering at each other. 

Glancing around the packed, dimly lit area, Olivier saw Jack in conversation with a couple of guys from Marketing, Aaron and Theo, while Santi was giggling with a fellow Spaniard, Nacho, his new friend over in Accounts.

For the first time in a long time, Olivier felt happy. He hadn't thought about Daniel today and for the past couple of weeks he had done his best to avoid Daniel whenever he came to his office. Lukas was taking care of the deal and he was doing a fine job, as he usually does. Olivier was sure that once the contract was sorted and the Danish men leave, everything will return to normal.

At least, he hoped so.

Even though it was starting to feel more like a lie every day.

Because Olivier refused to dwell on how his heart sank whenever he thought about the fact that he will never see Daniel again. Never see his concerned brown eyes as Olivier talked about his life, never hear his soft laughter at the way Olivier fumbles in his speech, never feel his touch on Olivier's skin.

He had no idea why he opened up to Daniel at the gym. He just felt like talking to someone because he was never able to talk with anyone about all the mess with Mathieu, and then Nasri. He used to be able to talk to his best friend, Morgan, but after Morgan moved back to France he didn't trust anyone else. And Daniel was there, and he had asked, so Olivier talked. He didn't know why he trusted Daniel but he did. And Daniel's kind response made him realise he did the right thing. 

He had forgotten how good it felt to talk to someone, and have that someone back him up. To feel less lonely. He just had no idea that Daniel's kindness would affect him so much.

It didn't matter though. Daniel will leave soon, and it was for the best.

As the night drew to a close, Olivier and his office mates trickled out of the bar, wobbling and saying goodbye to each other.

Olivier was sort of splattered but as long as he didn’t move too fast, he was okay. When the cool air outside hit his face, he felt slightly refreshed. There was a comfortable buzz in his stomach and he smiled dreamily as he watched the other guys hail taxis. As the boss he figured he'd let his staff take the taxis first. 

The only problem was fifteen minutes later he was left alone, not a taxi in sight. He waited another fifteen minutes but still nothing.

Olivier took out his phone, trying to focus his blurry eyes on scrolling to the number of a taxi company, when a car pulled up to the curb in front of him.

"Need a ride?"

Olivier peered into the car. Daniel looked back at him. His expression was unreadable.

Straightening up, Olivier reminded himself that it was a very bad idea. But it was almost 3am, the temperature outside was dropping and Olivier was dying to get home to his warm bed. What the hell. 

Olivier opened the car door and got into the passenger seat. He reached for the seat belt and buckled in. Or tried to, because there seemed to be two buckles and he was struggling to fit the belt in, because there were two belts too. He then felt a pair of hands snatching the belt from him and buckling him in firmly. He looked up to see Daniel rolling his eyes, moving back to his seat.

"You're stalking me again." Olivier leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

Daniel pulled away from the curb, grunting, "Yeah, that's what I do every day. Stalk you." But there was humour in his voice.

Olivier didn't bother answering. He no longer cared if Daniel was stalking him. The car was warm and he was starting to feel sleepy from all the alcohol he consumed tonight.

"I was on my way back to the hotel," Daniel suddenly said. "Then I saw you, standing outside the pub like a pathetic drunken loser."

Olivier ignored his insult. "How come you're out so late?" Too late, he realised that he sounded like a possessive boyfriend.

Daniel kept his eyes on the road. "I didn't know I have a curfew." He definitely sounded amused.

"Never mind. You're right, forget I said anything."

"I caught a late night movie with Martin. He met some girl at the cafe we went to after the movie and, well, he's off with her now." The car drifted to a stop at a red light. "I don't know why I'm always explaining myself to you. Where's your house, by the way?"

Olivier frowned, still trying to catch up with what Daniel told him. Then he realised Daniel had asked him a question. He gave his address to Daniel, stumbling over a few words before succeeding. Then all of a sudden he burst into laughter. Daniel stared at him, clearly wondering if Olivier was one of those happy drunks who laughed at everything.

"Martin and a girl?" Olivier was still laughing, gasping for breath. "I thought Martin is your boyfriend."

Daniel looked stunned, before snickering. "No! God, no. I mean, Martin is a good friend of mine, but no. He definitely prefers the female species."

Olivier rubbed his eyes, his body still shaking from laughing so hard. "Sorry. It's just that you guys are so close and I assumed. Because you guys are so close. So I thought -" He didn't continue.

Daniel glanced at him. "You thought what?"

"Never mind." Olivier gazed out the window, his face occasionally illuminated by the streetlights they passed.

They rode in silence for a while. When Daniel pulled up in front of Olivier's house and shut the engine, they stayed in their seats.

"Well." Olivier hesitated. "Thank you. You didn't have to do this. But thank you. I'll find a way to make it up to you."

Daniel was smiling a little. "I know how you can do that."

Olivier paused. His heart pounding, his head throbbing, he found himself unable to move. 

Not even when Daniel leaned over, closed the space between them and crushed their lips together.

A beat later, as if reconsidering, Daniel eased his pressure, softening the kiss. Olivier's thoughts were hazy, the combination of alcohol and Daniel's proximity making him feel like he was in a dream. He couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed him like this - gently but insistently. Like Daniel wanted to memorise the shape of his lips and the feel of his mouth forever. Olivier felt warm all over, basking in the glow of being _wanted_. 

He kissed Daniel back because how could he not, he was only human, yet there was a part of him that did not give. Daniel sensed this and broke the kiss.

"What's wrong?" His brown eyes were dark, searching. His breath was hot on Olivier's skin.

Olivier slowly shook his head. "I can't do this." He felt stupid.

Daniel's face changed. "Why? I thought - that it'll be okay now. You were worried because you thought that I'm with Martin, right? And now you know I'm not."

"It's not about that." It was partly about that. "I'm just not ready for any kind of relationship -"

"Mathieu?" Daniel moved away, leaning back in his seat. Olivier refused to think about how disappointed he was at that gesture.

"No, not Mathieu." Olivier sighed and wiped his face with his hands. "I just don't think - you and I - we're so different, I just don't think -"

“We're different?”

“I don't know how to explain.”

“Try me. Come on. You can talk to me.” Daniel was trying to understand him, but Olivier felt pressured, not wanting to let him down, not wanting to let himself down.

“I just think there is nothing – in the future – for us -”

Daniel cut him abruptly. "Is it because of my job? How stupid of me. Of course that's why."

Olivier shook his head again. But he couldn't say out loud the real reason for him behaving like this.

He was afraid but he didn't know how _not_ to be.

The hurt on Daniel's face brought up all Olivier's guilt to the surface and as usual, he reacted the only way he knew how. He lashed out. "Let's face it, you probably don't want to be with someone who dresses in a suit every day anyway."

"You're kidding." Disbelief was written all over Daniel's face. "You still think that means anything? What I said to you? Don't you realise that things have changed?"

"Just because I told you about my ex doesn't mean things have changed," Olivier snapped. "In fact, I've told you all this shit about my life and I still don't even know you."

"Ask me anything you want then."

"That's not the point."

“No, you're right. The point is I wanted to know about you but you don't give a shit about me. You don't care, you never did.”

Olivier wanted to deny everything, because of course he cared, he wanted to know everything about Daniel too. But to say that meant he had to tell him the depth of his feelings, and he couldn't. He couldn't show how much he cared.

Daniel started the car engine. Gripping the steering wheel, his voice hard, he said, "Get out."

Olivier looked at him, feeling guilty and angry and a bunch of other emotions he couldn't identity. He wanted to say something to repair what he had done, but it was too late. He slowly opened the door and got out. He had scarcely shut the door when the car peeled away from the curb, speeding into the night.

He trudged up the sidewalk to his house, feeling like the most fucked-up person in the entire world.

 

 

 

 

**9.**

"Are you sure about this?" Martin asked, worried. "Have you talked to the guys back home -"

"Yeah, sure. I've cleared with them. They say the contract is good now." Daniel answered impatiently, scribbling on a stack of papers in front of him. He wanted to finish up and get back to the hotel to pack. "So after we're done here we can go back."

Martin watched him, still unsure. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fantastic." Daniel tried not to sound sarcastic and failed spectacularly. It was clear he was not okay. But who gave a shit? Not him.

Daniel continued scribbling his signature, page after page after page. He was not lying to Martin, the contract they received had been good for some time now; their bosses had given the thumbs up last week. But Daniel told the management that they needed more time to meet with other clients so they were fine with letting Daniel and Martin run around London for another week.

Of course, his purpose for staying was not only to meet with clients. He had another goal. Even though he knew Olivier was purposely avoiding him, he figured it was a matter of time before they meet again. And he was right. It was a stroke of luck that he saw Olivier standing outside the bar that night.

And when he kissed Olivier outside Olivier's house, it had felt _so_ right. He thought things were finally coming together.

Then Olivier stopped and everything went to shit. Foolishly, he expected Olivier to say he was wrong when he said Olivier did not care about him. To prove that he felt the same way about Daniel. 

But Olivier just sat there, looking at him. 

Like Daniel was a dumbass for even thinking he had a chance in the first place.

So now that everything had blown up in his face, he was done fooling himself; it was time to go home. 

Time to stop pretending he had any place in this city.

Thinking about that night made Daniel want to punch things, so he pushed his thoughts away and concentrated on signing the stacks of papers on his desk. 

After returning the signed contracts to Lukas, they said goodbye to the other people in the office who they've worked with during the past eight weeks. Olivier wasn't there, much to his relief. He didn't think he could bear to look at that beautiful, infuriating face.

When he said goodbye to Jack, Jack didn't ask if he wanted to leave a message for Olivier and for that, Daniel was grateful.

 

 

 

 

**10.**

Olivier returned from his meeting across town to find Lukas and the rest of the Sales team celebrating in the break room. He popped his head in, curious. "What's up?"

Lukas turned to him, a plastic cup in his hand, that trademark smile on his face. It was only 11am on a Monday but Olivier was sure that Lukas had started drinking.

"We got the contract! With the Denmark team! They signed it this morning! Success!" He handed another cup to Olivier but Olivier declined, his heartbeat suddenly rushing.

"You mean Agger and Kelly?

"Yes! They signed the contract this morning. Now they're heading back home," Lukas sipped his drink, almost bouncing on his feet.

Olivier felt cold. "They're flying back? Which flight?"

Lukas shrugged. "I don't know. Martin said they need to go back to the hotel and pack. That's all he said to me."

Olivier headed to his office, his legs heavy. He sat at his desk, blankly staring at his laptop. He wondered how he felt. 

He should say sorry, shouldn't he? He didn't want to leave things the way they were with Daniel. He knew he had hurt Daniel. 

But he didn't know if he can trust himself to not say something hurtful again. He had done enough damage.

Jack knocked on the door and walked in before Olivier could respond. He stood in front of the desk, a solemn expression on his face. Olivier raised his eyebrows at his assistant. Then Jack took out a piece of paper from his jacket and placed it on the desk in front of Olivier.

"His hotel and room number." Jack's face revealed nothing.

"What?" His assistant was acting like a zombie.

"I found out where Daniel is staying and I got his room number from Martin before they left the office. Go and find him and say sorry for whatever it is that you did." Jack crossed his arms, serious.

Olivier almost fell of his chair. "Excuse me? What makes you think that I'm the one who did something wrong -"

"Because you're _you_. Go see him, alright?" Jack rolled his eyes. "You'll regret it if you don't." 

Then he left as swiftly as he had come in, the door closing behind him.

Dumbfounded, Olivier reached for the piece of paper. He read it, his stomach churning with anticipation and fear.

With all the damage that he had done, what was one more?

 

 

 

 

**11.**

"What the hell do you want?"

Olivier cringed at Daniel's tone. He was already having second thoughts about being here but it was too late to turn back. He was also painfully reminded of how good Daniel actually looked in person now that they were face-to-face again - this time not under the darkness of night but with the sun streaming through the windows. Better than anything his mind could conjure.

"Would you just let me in?"

Daniel stared at him, unmoving, then grunted and retreated into the room.

Olivier followed him, closing the door. He looked around. The room was a mess. It was clear that Daniel had methodically consumed everything in the mini bar, tossing the empty bottles of liquor haphazardly in and around the wastebasket. Clothes were strewn all over the couch, the chair near the desk and on the floor. A suitcase was lying open on the bed, but nothing was in it.

Olivier was used to seeing Daniel all calm and collected, so he didn't expect to see him like this. He was taken aback a little. 

"Are you packing?"

Daniel cleared some space on the couch and sat heavily on it. "No, I just like having my suitcase on the bed. For fun."

Olivier sighed. He rubbed his neck, feeling as if his necktie was choking him. The room was really warm and he wanted to take his jacket off, but he didn't think that would be a good idea.

"Listen, Jack thought that it might be a good idea for me to -"

"Figures."

" - talk - what? Figures what?"

Daniel stared at his hands, refusing to make eye contact. "Figures that you'd be here because Jack asked you to."

Olivier's heart thumped in his chest. "Well, Jack didn't ask me to. He thought it'd be a good idea for us to clear the air and I agree with him. I don't want us to leave things the way they are."

"What things?" Daniel almost sounded bored.

Everything. But Olivier couldn't say it. His face was heating up, every fibre in his body burning. He couldn't stop looking at Daniel's arms, the way his tattoos curved around and disappeared under his short sleeves. He was such an idiot.

"You know. Things. Do I have to spell it out for you?" Olivier tried to keep his voice light, but failed.

"Maybe, because I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Would you stop playing games?"

Daniel finally looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "Playing games? Who exactly is playing games here?"

This conversation was fast careening out of control. Olivier took a deep breath. He knew he needed to be calm.

"I'm sorry. Okay?"

"For what?" Daniel was refusing to give Olivier the easy way out. As it was his right.

Olivier was sure he would rather climb out the 6th floor window than continue talking. "For leading you on. For hurting you."

He hoped his answer would appease Daniel's wrath. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

Daniel laughed, bitter and loud. “Did someone write that down for you? Did Jack?" The sarcasm from Daniel was cutting. "You couldn't sound more condescending if you tried. _Hurting_ me? You have no idea what you're even talking about!”

Olivier was exasperated now. "Daniel, look. I'm trying my best here, why won't you give me a chance -"

"Just fuck off, okay, Olivier, if all you’re going to do is come here and act like you're too good for any of this shit." Daniel looked disgusted, his gaze now fixed on the window. "That's all you've been doing ever since I first met you."

Deep down Olivier knew there was some truth to what Daniel is saying, but he refused to back down. His stupid, selfish brain refused to accept he was wrong.

"That's a lie. You're the one who thinks you can come here and fool around with me, you think you can invite me in and then leave one day, just like that. Guess what, I was right! I knew you were going to leave! And that's exactly what you're doing right now!"

There. He said it. He finally said it.

He was afraid that Daniel would leave, because that was all they do. Everyone he ever wanted. Everyone he ever loved.

They eventually leave.

"You think I'm going to leave? Is this what it's all about?" Daniel was leaning forward on the couch, his hand gripping the armrest, his face stormy.

"Well, aren't you?"

Daniel exploded with laughter again. "Why the hell do you think I've been staying here for the past few weeks, you asshole? I stayed because of you! And now I'm _leaving_ because of you!"

Olivier stared at him, furious, disbelieving. When Daniel still hadn't stopped laughing, Olivier yelled, "Shut up! Is this a joke to you?"

He made a move towards Daniel, but stopped when Daniel suddenly stood up. They were standing not five feet away from each other and Olivier felt as if the room temperature had shot up a hundred degrees. He was angry at Daniel because he refused to believe Daniel was telling the truth, and he was furious at himself for being weak.

Because even right now, he couldn't drag his eyes away from those damn tattoos.

He clenched his right fist and swung it at Daniel's face.

Daniel saw it coming but moved a fraction too late. Olivier's punch connected squarely with his cheek. Before Olivier could land another one, Daniel sent a right hook to Olivier's stomach and he doubled over, cursing. He tried to kick Daniel's knee but Daniel was too quick, moving aside and shoving Olivier roughly. Olivier collided with the wall and leaned against it, still doubled over, breathing heavily.

"What the fuck! Would you stop fighting me!" Daniel glared at him, enraged, clutching his fist like he might punch Olivier again. Then he stopped abruptly and turned away.

"Fuck you." Olivier spat, scowling. He was still clutching his stomach, a sharp pain on his side. His head was spinning. 

"Yeah, you wish." Daniel took a deep breath, cursing, then walked to the ice bucket on the mini bar. 

Olivier suddenly felt like shit. He was surprised and ashamed at himself. He had never ever punched anyone before.

Yet here he was. Hurting Daniel. Again.

Daniel held some ice against his face. His back was to Olivier, but Olivier heard every word. "You know what your problem is? Your problem is that you want to be liked by everyone. You want to be the _perfect_ man for everyone. And you know that if you step out of line, do something different, choose someone different, you won't be liked by everyone. Losing that piece of your identity - that scares you."

Olivier was still leaning against the wall. He swallowed, lying again. "You know nothing about me."

Didn't he? Olivier felt as if he'd been punched again. Only somehow Daniel's words hurt more than his fist. How could this man know him so well? When Olivier had tried so hard to not show himself.

Daniel's reply was barely audible. "I know that when you kissed me, you wanted it. And when I kissed you, you wanted it too."

Olivier turned red. Why couldn't he just say, yes, he wanted Daniel too. What the fuck was wrong with him? Nothing, except what what was the point of discussing things that were never happening anyway? And he and Daniel would never happen.

Pushing himself away from the wall, he said, "Just because you want things doesn't mean you should have it." 

He turned to the door, wanting to be rid of this place so he can be alone and hit himself in the face for being stupid.

"Yeah, that's right. Run. Run away. That's your solution to everything." Daniel laughed harshly, shaking his head. 

Olivier stopped. Daniel was right. He was a coward. And like all cowards, he would never admit it. “I'm not running. I'm leaving. There's a difference." 

Daniel threw the blocks of ice into the bucket, now clearly pissed off. " _Fine_ , leave then! Get your lying ass the hell out of here!”

Now that Daniel had finally told him to leave, Olivier couldn't move. He stood there, rooted to the same spot. Daniel looked incensed, stalking to where he was.

"Why aren't you leaving? Why the fuck did you even come here in the first place? To apologise? _Liar_! Just tell me the truth. Why did you come here?" He moved closer. Olivier stepped back, but Daniel crowded him, his eyes blazing. "Come on, Olivier. Man up and tell the truth. Why did you come here?"

"Just shut up!" Olivier shouted, inches from Daniel's face. Daniel's words ripped into him and suddenly running away like a coward didn't seem like such a bad idea. But Daniel was close, so close, Olivier could have kissed every freckle on his face if he wanted to. 

And despite everything, he felt an irrational desire to do just that.

He was weak and stupid and he thought dying would be great right about now.

 

 

 

 

**12.**

Daniel's hands were shaking. He couldn't believe the audacity of this man. First, offering a half-assed apology, then accusing him of leaving or whatever the fuck he was saying, then actually _punching_ him? What the actual fuck. 

Daniel should have let him go because it was too much effort, too much work to convince him to see the truth. But he tried. Because despite Olivier's dumbassery Daniel still wanted him to face his feelings. He knew Olivier was there for a reason. He wanted Olivier to stop denying himself and just admit that he wanted Daniel.

It was selfish on his part, but he wanted Olivier to know he wasn't alone, that whatever he felt for Daniel, Daniel felt it too.

But Olivier didn't want any of it. Feeling sick, Daniel told him to leave but he just _stood_ there. 

Giving the same look that he gave Daniel in the car. That same scared, torn look on his face. Like he wanted to say something but he didn't know how.

Then he yelled at Daniel to shut up and Daniel has had enough.

“No, I won't shut up. Not until you tell me exactly what is going on in that big head of yours.”

Olivier kept on staring, his face red, furious and frustrating and -

_To hell with this._

He grabbed Olivier's tie and pulled the man to him until Olivier's lips collided with his. 

Olivier made a sound like a protest, but Daniel kept his mouth on him, not letting go. And suddenly Olivier responded, kissing Daniel back with a ferocity that took him by surprise. He ran his hands on Daniel's arms, scorching every inch of his skin, then moved up to touch Daniel's chest, his neck, his face. His lips moved relentlessly on Daniel's, like he was the one claiming the kiss now. 

Daniel was sure his heart might burst, any second now. His head spun, he was hanging on to Olivier's tie for dear life, his other hand gripping Olivier's nape. Olivier tasted like mint and spice and he never knew he wanted any of it, but he did. He wanted it all and more. _Damn_ this stubborn man. What had he done to Daniel? He couldn't remember ever feeling this way.

At last, Daniel pulled away, his breathing gone to hell, his heart running so fast he thought he might pass out from the rush of blood to his head. 

To his satisfaction Olivier looked just as wrecked as he felt - his lips bruised, those blue eyes clouded. They clutched each other, coming back down on earth.

When Olivier whispered, his voice was hoarse. "I don't know whether to hate you or love you or both."

"That doesn't feel like hate to me," Daniel quipped, his throat dry. He felt like that kiss had given so much and yet taken as much from him too.

When Olivier didn't reply but continued to stare at him in that infuriating way of his, Daniel went on, "If that was pretending then you deserve all the awards in the world."

Gently untangling himself from Daniel's hold, Olivier took a few steps back and sat on the bed. Daniel didn't dare move. 

He was afraid Olivier would reject him again. He didn't think he could take it this time.

"This is, as Jack would say, a bloody fuckup," Olivier said, sighing. He ran his fingers through his hair, messy now after Daniel had his way with it. "I don't even know why you want to be with me. I'm a fucking disaster."

Daniel tried to sound cool. Even though he was nothing but. “I like a challenge."

Olivier shook his head. "You have an answer for everything."

"Maybe." Daniel carefully looked at him. "But I'm still waiting for yours."

Olivier fell silent. Daniel followed suit. He wanted to reassure Olivier of whatever doubts he had, but he also did not want to push. Olivier knew how he felt. It was his choice whether he wanted to meet Daniel halfway.

"I don't know what to do." Olivier finally said, somewhat desperately.

Daniel swallowed. "Do what you think is right. Choose whatever it is that you think would make you happy."

"And that includes you?" Olivier asked quietly. He was looking at his hands, at the bed, anywhere but Daniel.

"If you want." Daniel sat on the bed beside Olivier. He knew he needed to choose his words wisely. "Look, I know we don't come from the same place and I know we need some time to get to know each other. People might give you shit for being with me. That's not going to be easy, for sure. But if you're willing to try, then I'm in. I'm not going anywhere."

Olivier nodded to the suitcase, his face unhappy. "What about Denmark?"

"Forget Denmark." 

"Just like that?" 

"I can always come back later. Who knows... maybe by then you'll come with me." Daniel's hand reached for Olivier's. And he meant it. Denmark was his home, but now that he knew there was a chance for happiness here, he was not going to give it up.

Maybe he will find a new home in this place. A place that not long ago had seemed so cold and foreign to him.

“You were wrong, you know.”

“What?”

Olivier cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “In the car. You said I didn't give a shit, that I - don't care. But you were wrong. I do want to know about you.”

Daniel felt like his heart had soared, bloomed and burst into supernova. He knew how much that had taken out of Olivier. It mustn't have been easy for him to say that and sure enough, he looked as if he wished the ground would open up and swallow him, but he said it anyway. For Daniel.

Daniel couldn't stop the biggest smile ever from taking over his face. And he didn't want to. He never wanted to stop smiling ever again. “I'm very glad to hear that.” 

Olivier stared at their joined hands, a little embarrassed. “So... can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Who's your Mathieu?" 

Daniel frowned, his hand still holding Olivier's. "His name is Nicklas. We were great together. Then he fell in love with a member of the royal family. No, I'm not joking. He did. Or at least, he decided that all the money and fame that the guy has is worth more than me. I'm over him, though.”

"I'm sorry." Olivier squeezed Daniel's hand. "Thank you for telling me."

Daniel grinned. "It's only fair. I've actually met your Mathieu." .

Olivier smiled too, but he looked guilty. He reached up and gingerly touched Daniel's cheek. "And I'm sorry I punched you."

"Sorry I punched you too. I was going to punch you in the face, but I didn't have the heart to ruin something so beautiful." Daniel shrugged, even though his heart raced again when he belatedly realised he had called Olivier beautiful. Maybe Olivier wouldn't notice.

Olivier seemed pleased though, finally breaking out a genuine smile. "Ah. How thoughtful."

"Too bad you couldn't be as thoughtful when you messed up my face." Daniel rolled his eyes, pushing Olivier's hand away.

Olivier reached up to the bruised cheek again, as if he couldn't help but touch Daniel. “It's not too bad. Maybe even an improvement."

"Hey, just because you look better than most guys -"

"Are you going to sit there admiring this beautiful face or are you going to kiss me again?" Olivier raised his eyebrow, grinning. But he was also blushing.

Daniel let out a bark of laughter. "You can be such an ass, you know. God help me."

Then he pulled Olivier in for another kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

**EPILOGUE**

“Can we not do this right now? I have to go, I'm already late.” Olivier slipped on his suit jacket, then grabbed his phone and keys while trying to dodge out of his assistant's reach.

“It's just a selfie, I thought you love selfies!” Jack was dancing around, blocking the way while waving his phone at Olivier's face.

“Not if you're going to upload it on Twitter.” He gently pushed Jack aside and reached for the door handle. A flash went off. He stopped, startled.

“There. Done. Okay, go. Bye.” Jack tapped swiftly on his phone, a satisfied look on his face. 

Olivier spluttered. “Wait, I wasn't ready!”

“Too bad.” Jack quickly left the room. 

Olivier counted to ten before exiting his office too, telling himself he was lucky he had an assistant as efficient and capable as Jack was, even though at that moment he wanted to strangle him.

Making his way out of the office, he stopped to pick up some takeaways before driving home. He had showered and was setting down plates in the dining room when the doorbell rang. He couldn't help but smile as he opened the door.

“Hey, you.” 

Daniel stood in his doorway looking all sinful and gorgeous. So _of course_ Olivier had to kiss that wicked face. Daniel returned the kiss, giving him a bite on his lower lip before breaking apart. “Something smells good. Did you go to that Italian place again?”

Olivier nodded, closing the door. “You said you were hungry so I ordered that baked pasta that you liked so much.”

Daniel gave him a naughty smile, tracing a finger up Olivier's arm. “Well, I am hungry, but I could think of other things I could eat beside baked pasta...”

Feeling himself blush, Olivier laughed awkwardly. “Stop! Dinner first. Um, desserts later.” He was absolutely terrible at dirty talk, but luckily Daniel didn't seem to mind. He mostly thought it was funny how he could always get Olivier all flustered with just his words.

“Fine. I'm keeping you to your word!” Daniel winked, grabbed Olivier's hand and dragged him to the kitchen.

It had been three months since Daniel moved to London. After their explosive encounter at the hotel, he actually had to go back to Denmark to sort things out at work. Olivier fretted the whole time, wondering if Daniel would change his mind and decided against coming back. 

After all, it was completely unfair to expect Daniel to move his life to another country. No matter how he felt for Olivier.

But two weeks later, Daniel returned. His company was opening a branch in London, and they wanted him to lead the team. So he rented a place here and they've been seeing each other ever since.

Eventually he wanted Daniel to move in with him, but that was all in the future. They had plenty of time.

“Uh, Olivier?” Daniel's voice broke into his thoughts. He was looking at his phone as Olivier scooped pasta onto his plate.

“Yeah?”

Daniel looked as if he was trying to hold in laughter. “Why is there a picture of your face on twitter with the hashtag #HotBossContender2013 ?”

Olivier sighed, reminding himself to smack Jack tomorrow. “You won't believe me if I tell you.”

“Try me.” Daniel grinned.

And Olivier was very, very glad he did.

 


End file.
